Say a Prayer Ch. 07

Kovak was gone. Erdgar didn't understand even though there was a note left behind.

"To my kind employer, I must apologize. I shall leave your fine estate. I've become so interested in the murder of Fabrizio Aquabi that I've decided to perform my own private investigation. I understand that I have no legal authority over this issue, but I've never been one to care over such things. Fret not, Master. Now that he is dead, you have one less enemy, and I believe you may relax and enjoy your life as you did before. Still, I'm curious, and I can not rest until I have the truth between my fingers. Please forgive me for leaving you without any notice."

Erdgar didn't know if this made the man more or less suspicious.

***

Delma Roiters was no longer a Temple Child, and certainly not a Child of Hope. In the beginning, she thought it would be a good thing. The deciding reason, though, was her husband. "You don't need to work anymore," Maino had fiercely insisted, "because now you're the dragon's woman." That's how he saw himself, a great dragon to be feared.

Most of his matches were held in the spring and summer. There were a few other things for Maino to do in the off seasons, though. He was often paid by companies to endorse products in newspaper advertisements. He made a few paid appearances at festivals, schools, and even restaurants. The man was literally paid money just to be seen eating somewhere. In the beginning, this sort of treatment trickled down to Delma too. Sometimes, store owners would pay her to be seen browsing their products, or even using a product of theirs in public. One jeweler asked her to wear a rather heavy necklace of his at her next dinner party.

A celebrity's wife was a celebrity by association. It should be a charming life, a dreamy life.

The truth was, she didn't know Maino very well when she married him, and once she had learned more important details of his personality, she had decided that she didn't want to know any more of him.

Because no matter how handsome he was, no matter how much money he had, no matter how many luxuries he tossed into her lap, certain actions could never be forgiven.

Over time, he lost more and more patience with her, for his wife was less forgiving than his adoring fans. She didn't see him as perfect. She didn't worship him. So, his words grew harsher and crueler as time went on.

Then one day, when there was an argument, a stupid argument over nothing important, it happened.

With no understandable provocation, Maino stopped treating her like a spouse. He treated her worse than an opponent at a match. At least in a match there were rules.

Delma didn't go out in public for a few weeks. The couple was too embarrassed to have her face be shown. They let everyone believe she was ill.

Only the frightened servants and a paid off physician were given the truth.

One heartbreaking memory was when the butler, a dear man with gray hair, tried his best to defend her. He ended up with a broken arm and snapped ribs. Maino then dismissed him from his position and had him replaced with an easily manipulated man.

When winter started, Delma gathered up as much money as she could and tried to run away. She thought she might find shelter in a temple, perhaps one dedicated to the God of Marriage, and arrange a divorce from there. It didn't work. Maino caught up with her on the street and yanked her into his carriage.

Eventually, she became known as the "Sickly Former Priestess" because her husband's fans assumed that she was always ill. She couldn't attend any more public appearances. She wasn't paid any more money to be seen with any products.

There wasn't a day when her body wasn't hurting. Sometimes a bone was broken.

There was even a miscarriage, and despite the horror of it, Delma found herself to be relieved when the blood finally came out of her. She didn't want to raise a child with this man.

At least Maino was man enough to tell her that it was his fault the poor little thing died, one hundred percent. Delma had thought he might blame her, but he surprised her with a quiet apology. As for what the public knew, Maino didn't let anyone know she had ever been pregnant.

Sometimes, Delma wondered what Maino's parents had been like. She eventually learned that Maino was an abandoned child left at an orphanage. So, she didn't have much of a clue. She still wondered, though. Would they shrug? Would they be ashamed? Would they laugh?

She blamed herself, though, because she knew she never loved him, not even when she married him. There had only been a bit of lust. She knew she should have never married him. She put herself in this mess.

But ... to be fair, if there were signs of his true nature before they married, Delma hadn't noticed them. She had been truly surprised the first time she had been attacked. Maino hadn't seemed to be the type to do those things in the beginning.

Oh well.

All there was left to do was try to leave again, she supposed.

On a night full of snow, Delma decided to make another attempt, Ignoring the pain in her bones, she quietly slipped out of bed. Her feet found a low pair of slippers. She went to her wardrobe and chose an ordinary outfit suited for the cold. Then she took a small bag of necessities. She listened to her bedroom door's hinges, carefully pushing the door aside. She vaguely wondered if she'd be caught again, and how many more marks would be put on her skin, how many more days would she be in bed, how many more meals would she skip because her misery stole her appetite away.

Her clothing was so heavy.

Delma's exhale was rattling in the air like a sack of dice being spun about.

Then a jerk from behind, something pulling at her cloak.

Her fingers gave in, letting her bag drop to the floor with a loud thud.

Piercing pain right at her throat, vaguely reminding her of a dry bout of sexual intercourse. Then an odd feeling of something else going into her.

Delma tried to struggle, but her limbs didn't have the strength. A seemingly artificial lethargy put lead in her limbs. Her back curled over. She soon saw nothing, and then she felt nothing.

***

"How are you feeling, poor thing? Do you need to sit on a pot? Are you hungry?"

That voice ... it was far away but Delma recognized it. Kuno! Sweet, sweet Kuno! She wanted to reach out to him, but her body was disobedient. Opening her eyelids was a struggle, and she didn't see anything more than melted colors once that was done. She felt supportive softness beneath her and a heavy blanket above her. Was she in a bed? That was the most logical thought her weak brain could produce.

"Hold on, Angel. I'll get you to a pot."

There was movement. The blanket was taken away. The air was a little cool, but she heard the cracking and popping of a fire somewhere. She was lifted up. She heard breathing and then footsteps against a hard floor. Her arms helplessly dangled in the air.

A chemise ... she had on a chemise, nothing else. She could tell, could feel the material slide and fold around her body.

Then her body was held up, her back against a leather palm. The skirt of her chemise was yanked up and her bare bottom was settled onto a cool rim of what was likely a chamber pot.

"I know it's embarrassing, but you'd better do it now so you won't make a mess later. Someone else is using the bed pan."

A pause.

She honestly didn't want to do it with him holding her up.

"Come now, Angel. Relax your muscles a bit."

Well, she was feeling a little full, but she still groaned out a wordless protest.

"It's natural. All natural. Don't be ashamed of yourself."

Leather again! It was between her thighs, on her mons, the fingers framing the labia and spreading her a little. Delma gasped.

"Go on. It's the best thing to do." His voice purred in her ear. "Let me care for you. Be a good little angel and take a wee so I won't have to fret over you as much."

Well ... she did have to go ...

The sound of the liquid shooting and splashing in the pot was so mortifying.

"That's good and well. Now wait a moment." His hand rose and disappeared into the vague world. Then it returned with a cloth and she was carefully wiped and patted dry. "Alright. That's done. I'm going to put you back to bed. You need to eat."

More movement, floating, and Delma believed she was in bed again. The blanket was tugged up to her chest. "I'm going to get some soup for you. Wait here."

A few minutes after that, and Delma felt a spoon at her mouth, and then warm soup that tasted like chicken, beef, and butter beans. There were small chunks of some sort of green vegetable there too. It was pretty nice. As he fed her, Kuno gave her delicate little praises. He told her she was doing so well, and he was so happy to know that she was eating.

There was the sound of a bowl clinking against a tabletop nearby. Then Delma heard Kuno say beside her with a tone that was too content, "I'm a monster, Angel, a true monster. I've drugged you without your consent."

Her voice struggled. She wanted to say "What?!" All that came out was a gurgle.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I injected a mixture of drugs into you. I needed you to be unconscious for a little while, because I needed to get you out of that house quietly. I wanted your body to have a kick in the system too, to help it heal. All those bruises? They need to go. I don't know what sort of doctor's been tending to you, but he doesn't deserve any payment."

Delma considered the word injected. What did that even mean?

Wait ... bruises ... he knew she was in a sorry state? How ...? Why ...? What?!

Her fingers jerked and twitched under the blanket.

"It will take time, Delma. Science can only go so far. You're not healed yet, but you're on the right path. Don't fret about it. Are you thirsty?"

Delma whined hatefully.

"I have a cup here. Let me pull you up." He slid his hand under her back and he held her up so she could drink. Delma coughed a little, but she did manage a few good swallows.

The cup was put away. Then she heard Kuno say, "I saw your wedding. You were as lovely as a sugar tart. The color cream suits you. You should wear it more often."

Her brow furrowed. Kuno hadn't been invited. She couldn't have invited him. She had no idea who he even was!

"I was excited for you, Angel, but when I noticed you weren't leaving your house, I knew I needed to look more closely. Poor thing, poor dear little thing! That man doesn't know how to play the role. He's supposed to protect you, love you, and put paradise in your blood without shedding any of it."

Delma realized that even though she knew her body was fairly blue and purple she couldn't feel any pain. It was because of the drugs, right?

"Don't worry, my perfect little Angel. I'm going to teach him how you need to be treated. He won't have a choice. His crimes will be placed before him."

Another little whine. Delma's eyes closed.

"That's fine, Delma. Go on and sleep if you need to. Don't worry about that brute. He's truly disarmed."

She wanted to ask him what he had done and why he had done it. She couldn't say anything, though. Her mind was being absorbed by fog.

***

There was a wooden ceiling, dark and barely visible. An orange glow was near the bottom of her vision. She turned her head to one side. Over her arm, she partially saw what seemed to be a seated man. As her vision focused, she realized the man was struggling. He was literally chained to a heavy looking chair of stone. The metal links clanged and scraped against the chair and shimmered in the firelight. She was able to notice a few veins in the man's skin popping up. No matter how he struggled, the chair didn't move. Was it attached to the floor somehow?

Delma's voice was soft. "Maino? Is that you?" She was too surprised to be afraid.

He didn't give a word. He gave a muffled cough instead. Delma's eyes narrowed. She pulled her head up and saw Maino's clean teeth biting fabric tied across his mouth. There was probably some fabric in his mouth too. His eyes were bulging with fury and outrage.

"Maino? How did you end up there? How could anyone put chains on you?"

"I cheated, Angel. I shot a drug in him."

"Kuno?!"

Delma's toes pressed down. Her fingernails went to the heels of her hands. Then she understood that she was restricted. Her arms were gently stretched above her on the surface she rested on. Thin and smooth cords were around her wrists, and those cords seemed to be attached to something, possibly a headboard, since Delma was convinced she was on a bed. She felt a silky sheet and a deluxe mattress underneath her. Her hair seemed to be in an oddly comfortable bun at the top of her head.

Her legs were stretched out and spread apart. Her ankles had cords on them. Those cords were in a position similar to the ones on her wrists, sternly tied to something, likely the footboard.

And she was naked. The air was warm, but she had goosebumps.

"Kuno, is that you?" Delma turned her head in the other direction. She didn't see anything except a dark room with occasional lit lamps. She heard an enraged growl from her husband.

Kuno's voice returned. She believed it came from behind the bed she was on, behind her head. "Good evening, my pretty little Angel!" His voice was very cheerful.

"Good evening? Good evening?! Where am I? What's going on?" She gave her restrains a few irate tugs. "How did you do this? Why did you do this?"

A recognizable shape glided into her vision. A head wrapped in layers of cloth, masculine shoulders hidden under a white shirt, a plain cravat tucked into a waistcoat, long arms framing her sight, leather gloves roughly pressing into the bed, Delma took in all these things with uneasy eyes.

"There's old and new marks all over you." His words changed, becoming slow and poised. "Your left arm has a scar on it. Has it been broken at one point?"

Yes, but she didn't want to talk about that.

"That doesn't matter. I'm tied up on a bed. You can't let this be if you care for me. Am I not your righteous little angel?" She was begging. She didn't know she was begging. She didn't even think she was scared of him.

The head slanted as if he was curiously looking at her. Then his voice trickled down to her face. "So pleased I am, so pleased I am, to see the gentle little angel on a bed of silk with gold in her ears."

Delma's lips pursed. She shook her head a bit, and then she figured out that there were earrings in her lobes. Kuno had actually put jewelry on her! "Is this a game?! I don't know the rules, Kuno! So I can't play. It's unjust."

"You don't have to know the rules. You're not going to play. I am." He removed himself from the bed, stepping out of her view. "I've done terrible things. If one only counts what you two know about, we have kidnapping, illegal imprisonment, putting needles in your bodies, which is a form of assault, administering possibly dangerous drugs without consent and certainly without a medical license, and I think I'm going to commit a few more crimes soon." A pause, and then Kuno added, "Ah, and stalking? I think I could be called a stalker."

There was more metallic rattling coming from Maino. Delma took a gulp of mucus and saliva, wondering why she wasn't afraid. Why wasn't she crying for her life? Was Maino afraid? She'd never known him to show any kind of fear, only aggression.

"Kuno? What are you going to do? Oh, wait. Needles? You put needles in us?"

"That's how you perform an injection. You put a needle in someone and use it to push something into something else. That's how I drugged you two." She heard Kuno move his feet around on the floor. She was certain that the floor was wooden. "Now, I don't care what Mr. Roiters over there sees of me, but you should never see my face, Angel. So, in case something slips and too much of me is revealed, I'll have your pretty eyes covered." He walked back to her. A blindfold was placed over her eyes, and her head was lifted up so the blindfold could be properly tied.

She keened out sad words. "Couldn't we have a chat? We could sit together and discuss whatever is on your mind. I don't have to be bound like a prisoner."

"Ah, but this is for your benefit." His body heat remained hovering over her for a moment. His voice was thick and ambrosial. "I believe pleasure is normally more intense when one is unable to retreat or even see."

The chains rattled even louder.

Delma's belly sunk as she took in a skittish breath.

Bitterness weaved into Kuno's voice then. "So, Mr. Roiters, I have a few things to say to you." His footsteps circled around the bed a little. "Your role is that of a protector and a lover. You held an angel in your arms and you beat her. You damaged her. You betrayed her trust and yourself. I'm a monster because that is my role. You don't have that excuse to rely on."

A heavy growl came from the chained man. Delma's lips parted and she gasped in the darkness. She heard delicate scraping of fabric against skin. Then she heard something very quietly clap against what was probably a tabletop somewhere.

"Her arm was broken once. It's fine now, but I'm still upset. And, as you can see, there are bruises all over her. Did you see the lingering remains of a black eye before I put the blindfold on her? Ah, of course you did." Delma felt skin, actual skin, on her cheek. Fingertips! She winced as Kuno went on, feeling his fingernails lightly tap and graze her. Her flesh tingled. "There are hand prints on her throat. Am I correct in assuming she didn't ask for that sort of brutality?"

Delma's tongue swiped over her lower lip.

And ... one of the man's fingers actually ... slipped over to her lips. A light caress, a playful touch on her mouth, and Kuno said, "Do you even know how to touch a lover, Mr. Roiters? Do you understand the differences between gentle, rough, and painful? Do you even know how to kiss someone?"

Delma thought Maino knew all of these things but he sometimes forgot to care.

Her nipples were constricting.

Rustling, fluttering cloth. Then, there was more warmth over her face. The mattress was compressed. Delma thought he was supporting himself with one hand.

Kuno's finger retreated to her cheek. Then ... for the first time ... she felt his mouth.

Under the blindfold, Delma's eyes shot open. Her body writhed as much as her restraints permitted. Why, oh why did his mouth feel so good? Wonderfully smooth lips, hot and resolute, were kissing her. It was a tender and calm kiss at first. Then it changed. There was a tongue diving into her mouth, past her teeth.

Her eyes closed. Her movements slowed down. Her breath shuddered against his tongue. She tasted wine, dark bread, and a bit of honey. Around her mouth, she felt edges of fabric. Kuno seemed to have shifted and peeled a few layers of his mask away just so he could kiss her.

More and more metallic sounds of chains against stone, more and more wrathful protests from her heavily restrained husband.

Strange ... so strange ... Delma enjoyed hearing that man's distress. Guilt boiled in her bosom when she realized that she was being a sadist. She didn't want to be a sadist.

But Kuno's mouth was so delicious. Delma felt affection in his kiss. All of Maino's kisses had certainly been possessive and passionate, but she couldn't remember sensing so much fondness with him.

A long moan sounded in her throat.

There was a smacking little pop as Kuno's head rose, his mouth leaving her. His words sounded playful and clear. "She tastes like spring! How can one be so ungrateful?" His slightly rough palms ran up and down her left arm, from the armpit, over the elbow, and pausing right over the tender underside of her wrist. Delma trembled and curled her fingers. Kuno's playfulness faded for a moment. "What an ugly scar. Perhaps I could find an ointment to make it less noticeable."